A Little Cale in the Cocktail?
by shywr1ter
Summary: S1,ML. In response to Reilynn's Challenge on DAR. There's a new kid in town who looks an awful lot like Logan... NOW COMPLETE!
1. Part 1

_**Disclaimer: As everyone knows by now, no rights, ownership or other interest here in Dark Angel or its characters; no profits made from this fic. I would if I could, people!**_

_**A/N: This is written in response to a challenge posted on the Dark Angel Reflections board by Reilynn, as follows: "Create an episode, season one style, that writes in a small part for August Weatherly, Michael Weatherly's son (born 10/01/1996). Remember, he is going to look like Logan."**_

_**This offering takes place in my S1-style AU, a good handful of weeks after the "Meow" kiss, but without Zack arriving to screw things up, let alone the rest of the resulting mess. In my AU, after the kiss comes... M/L!**_

**Noon**

Jealousy was still a new emotion for Max, and she found she really didn't like anything about it. At all.

She'd managed to avoid it all these years, never having found anyone who'd gotten past scratching an itch for her when she was in Heat; never having had a relationship with any guy about whom she cared enough to notice if there were other women in his life; never having had reason to be jealous of anyone in any other kind of relationship, because friends were friends whether they had ten other friends or one hundred...

But then she met Logan Cale, and yet again everything was different, where he was concerned...

She'd felt her first flicker of it when she learned he had an ex-wife, and felt it move her to ask Bling about her and to offer snide comments to Logan about Valerie, upon seeing the beautiful redhead with the killer legs ... she felt it all over again seeing him all sparkly and animated for Daphne, when he spent the evening in laughing conversation with the willowy blonde...

But this was different...

And whack. This wasn't like her... but she'd stewed and stared and asked Original Cindy what _she_ thought...

It was all so innocent: Original Cindy and Max each had a run to Sector 2 before lunch. It was a mild day of summer sun and they wanted to enjoy it, so agreed to finish their deliveries and meet at the park by the old, downtown library for their brown-bag sandwiches and some girl talk. Max had gotten there first and, as she waited for Cindy, walked along the park's worn path toward the play area, watching others out in the sunshine. An elderly couple was there ... a man walking a large dog ... a mother and child...

Max neared the play area, looking back to see the boy and his mother again. Something in the child caught her eye ... there was something in his stance, in the way he was built and the way he moved ... something almost familiar in the way he popped up suddenly from the crouch where he'd been working in the sand ... He ran over to his mother and spoke to her in excitement, pulling her near to his project. As he turned back toward his goal, his face lifted enough that Max could see...

It couldn't be. The child was a dead ringer for Logan...

She could see it, even in the childish face... even more, it was as if the photos she'd seen of Logan as a small boy had come to life. The long legs and already artistic hands gave him away, even now, not only in the way he looked but in the way he used his fingers at play, his stance and how his muscles and limbs interacted to respond, just so...

"..._Max_" She turned quickly to see Cindy close by, calling her again. "What's wrong, Boo? You look like you've seen a ghost..."

She wavered a moment, to nod toward the child across the grass from them. "Look at him," he urged her friend. "Who does he look like?" she demanded. Maybe if Cindy didn't see it, it would all just have been her imagination...

"Damn..." Cindy breathed. "He looks like a little Logan."

Max's heart sank, as they'd both seen it... "Gotta be a coincidence..." she tried, half- heartedly. They both stood by as the boy ran over to the monkey bars and, with a fierce whoop, jumped up to play, fighting off imaginary foes and clamoring to the top...

Cindy glanced over to Max, seeing the brown eyes taking it all in, finding it hard to believe there wasn't a connection. "You _did_ say he was married before..." she tried, slowly.

"But they didn't have kids...at least, I think they didn't. And anyway, the woman with him isn't Valerie..."

"Yeah, Boo ... but even Hot Boy is a dog of the three-legged variety, and young ones don't necessarily wait til the ink's dry on the license, you know what I'm sayin'? Or maybe mom's not mom, but a friend or babysitter..." Cindy shrugged, knowing it wasn't what Max wanted to hear, but feeling protective for her friend, who certainly would have a right to know if Logan had sown his seed so recently. "All I know is, you put spikey hair on that little boy and you got miniature Logan Cale, for sure."

"There's got to be some other explanation," Max frowned, running the numbers. "What are the odds, stumbling on him like this? Or maybe, he's a relative's kid – there are a fair number of Cales around this city, remember." She snorted, humorlessly, at the thought, muttering "Talk about your three-legged types..."

Original Cindy narrowed her eyes at Max, who was clearly unsettled. "So–" she challenged. "You gonna ask him?'

Max's thoughts were turning, vainly ... and the child hopped off the monkey bars and bent down to study something in the grass, looking for all the world like Logan when he stared at data he was trying to unravel... " I don't know," she ached.

Cindy looked at her for all of about ten seconds, then said, "Well, I do. And within the hour, if I know my boo."

"It's not like that..." Max brows knit...

"At least you're not still saying _you're_ not like that," Original Cindy's grin quirked. "Would it bother you, to know Logan's a papa?"

"No. I don't know. I..." she admitted, "I gotta go."

"See?" Cindy grinned, more to herself than to Max, who was already pushing the pedals back down the alley toward Sector 9 and an answer she wasn't sure she wanted to hear. "Good luck, Boo..." she murmured after the disappearing figure...

_**Thirteen minutes later.**_

"Max, hi." Head raising at the sound of her steps coming into his hallway, Logan's clear green eyes looked up innocently to the face he loved as it appeared in his doorway, clearly pleased at the unexpected visit. "Did you get a free lunch hour?"

"No, not really, I just..." She was more rattled than she wanted to be, and he was seeing through her. At the shift in his expression from pleasure to concerned curiosity, she decided not to even try a feint, but to go right to the heart of things...

"Logan, would you tell me if you had kids?"

He reacted to the abrupt question just as abruptly, eyebrows high in surprise. "Yeah – I guess." He leaned back in his chair, not sure what to make of the question. "Why?"

"So – that means you don't..."

"What? Have kids? No..." He laughed, softly, assuring her. "Why?" He repeated, his look more curious now. "Who said I did?"

"No one; I just..." Suddenly she felt foolish, this newly- found jealousy thing still turning her inside out. She dropped her eyes and shrugged, temporizing, "I was just thinking, ya know? And... when I was..." Her eyes lifted back to his, and she confessed, 'there was this little boy – maybe five or six – he was in the park at the library and he just looked, I don't know, he was the spitting image of those pictures you have, of when you were little..."

"The poor kid," Logan teased, eyes twinkling with the thought that such a discovery had Max unhinged – just for him. Max feeling in any way possessive about him was something he'd never let himself believe possible, for many long months...

She colored, and shrugged again. "Kinda silly, I guess..."

"Not really. Actually, it's nice to have you worried about it..." he dared to admit, offering his hand to her, palm up.

Her smile in return grew slowly, widened in affection, and she stretched her fingers across his, slipping her hand in his and relaxing out of her earlier reaction. "Of course, if it turns out there's any truth to this scenario..." she drawled.

"You'll kick my ass?" He nodded, dutifully, in mock gravity.

"That will only be the start..." she laughed. "For the secret, and the fibbing, _and_ for being a dog..."

"When was I a dog?" he asked, all innocent surprise.

"If you ask Original Cindy, from conception..." She beamed, and leaned over to plant a kiss on his spiky hair. "Gotta blaze or Normal will make my life more hell than usual. See you tonight?"

"Dinner at seven?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She bounced out of the penthouse, her world restored. A coincidence, after all...

_**Two days later. **_

"I saw that boy again today, Logan, out playing in the park over by the library. Maybe they've just moved into the area..."

"Mmmm." Logan noted. There were four of them in Logan's kitchen: Bennett and Marianne had finally come over for a long-promised dinner, and as Max handed plates and silverware to Marianne at her offer to help, Logan added the final touches to the salad he'd prepared.

"Or maybe he's there more often, now that school's out." Max mused. Logan tried to be subtle but managed a glance. Max had mentioned this child a couple times since she'd first seen him, but seemed to believe him in his denial that there was any connection ... so what was her interest? Was it the resemblance, or just the thought of his having a child? Maybe _she_ was thinking of children of her own, someday...

"What boy?" Marianne asked.

"Oh, there's a boy, about five years old, I saw on a run the other day. He looks so much like Logan I just stood and watched him, for a while. And a couple times, the way he moved, his attitude, even... a child of Logan's couldn't look more like him..."

Logan took it all with a soft smile, not looking up – but Bennett's eyes darted up to his cousin's quickly, open wide. Suddenly aware of his reaction he glanced to the women, who didn't seem to notice his gape. Looking back to Logan, he saw that his cousin apparently had completely forgotten it all – hard to believe, considering Logan's crackerjack memory for just about everything else – but no one, not even Logan Cale, was that good an actor. Was it _possible_ he just didn't remember? Did he just believe the boy couldn't be his son? Certainly the whole thing had been more memorable for the younger cousin. But he would have thought it was a memorable enough experience for _anyone_ to recall. It certainly had been, for him ... he'd even had his own misgivings about precisely this scenario. How could Logan have not?

It took all his patience to wait them out, to wait until the women both happened to leave the kitchen at the same time, and he spun on his cousin as he interrupted Logan's words...

"Logan, the boy! He _could_ be your son!"

The look Logan gave him cleared up any remaining question – Logan clearly had no idea what Bennett was talking about. He looked completely baffled at first – but then, his expression shifted into a more knowing, reassuring look. "Nah, always had protection – you of all people know how much of a hassle it can be to be a Cale; I didn't want any child to have to face that _and_ be a surprise, as well." Case closed, he thought. "Just a coincidence, Bennett."

Bennett shook his head in frustration; Logan still didn't get it. "But a child of _donor_ sperm wouldn't be a surprise to his parents, would he?" he whispered, hurriedly. "At least not his legal parents. His _biological_ father, on the other hand – especially if he forgot about the whole thing – might have quite a jolt."

The puzzled look in Logan's eyes finally shifted to understanding – and dread – and his eyes and mouth slowly opened in parallel surprise. "The sperm bank?' At Bennett's slow, silent nod, Logan sputtered, "No way. They would have lost everything in the Pulse, with power outage; they couldn't have kept..."

"Then you explain why there's a kid out there who Max says looks just like you!"

"Coincidence; it's impossible that..." Logan cut off with guilty immediacy when he saw Max walk in. Meeting her eyes only briefly before he had to break their gaze, he went back to fussing with the vegetables and sauce he was finishing, nearly scorching them with the news – and Max looked at him, closely. From her expression, Logan knew she'd guessed something was up...

"What coincidence?" She asked Logan sweetly, as Marianne came back in the kitchen behind her. Max's head was tipped in question and her hip cocked to the side, eyes steady and looking into his –all belying the honey sound of her voice. Logan squirmed. Max got her confirmation...

But waited... and raised her eyebrows, asking...

"Oh, ah..." Logan stammered, unlike him. This new closeness and trust with Max made it remarkably difficult to spin stories to throw her off, he was learning...

"The fact that the boy looks like him," Bennett piped up, boldly, to Logan's surprise. "You know, Logan was mighty popular with the ladies, and I admit, I asked him about it. But he said he was always careful about that, so no unhappy surprises." Bennett saw that Max was still listening, and realized that he might be getting away with this. "Let's face it, Max–you know what my father would have done, if Logan _ever_ fathered a child 'unofficially' –make life hell for Logan, and pay off the mother to relocate, sign an agreement to never establish paternity, and generally do all the oafish things that people with money do when their boys get out of line. Logan's too much of a gentleman to let all that happen, to anyone." Bennett met Max's eyes with the full, confident bearing of one who had made a completely truthful statement, and she relented a little, looking back to Logan as he stared up at his cousin in some remaining amazement. Shy Bennett, leaping in to save the day?

It appeared to have worked, the admission that they'd discussed something as potentially embarrassing as Logan's randier past: Max finally shrugged, threw Logan a mildly accusative look for his unspecified past, and went back to get the remaining plates to take out to the dining room. Logan looked back to the vegetables as Marianne teased Bennett confidently about Jonas having to do something along those lines for him; clearly she was certain about the unlikelihood of Bennett causing such a problem – and Logan was as certain at the moment that Marianne didn't know any more about their little adventure than Max did.

He felt like they'd just lied to Max, and despite the number of times he'd done so for whatever reason, he didn't like it – especially not these days, as they tentatively moved from "we're not like that" through "we're something–just don't know what" to "you're the part of my soul that's been missing all these years." He'd tell her, and maybe she'd understand ... but she was so rattled when she'd first seen the boy and was convinced there was a connection...how would she take it if she knew it were possible?

...and it _was_ possible, wasn't it?

No matter the child's age or the dates or the odds, he knew with a sinking feeling it was. With further discussion with Bennett and a bit of research, he might be able to determine just how possible it was. And no matter the odds ... his gut told him it just might be that he had a son out there, somewhere not far across town...

...and that ass-kicking Max had promised might be far less funny than it had been a couple days ago...

_**...to be continued...**_


	2. Part 2

_**Disclaimer: please see Part One.**_

_**A/N: Continuing the challenge response as outlined in Part One's A/N. Even though done in several parts, this one's essentially finished and shouldn't be long in completion, so I hope you'll bear with me. **_

_**THANKS for the reviews, comments, and suggestions, and I challenge those of you with suggestions to respond with your own story, as well!**_

_**That evening.**_

Dinner had been quiet. Logan tried, but he was distracted and the conversation went on around him, his participation limited to those times the others drew him in. Max, in turn, was unsettled by his change of mood. He'd been fine before the others came; fine until... when?

...when she mentioned the boy? During coffee it dawned on her, that was when he'd done an about-face and had become pre-occupied, when she'd returned to find Logan looking caught and Bennett – _Bennett_ – stepping in to cover the moment.

Something had been said between them... about the child?

She hadn't let it go; for whatever reason she'd been drawn back to see the boy a couple more times, the resemblance riveting her. Of course, it was in his features, but more, as well: in his expressions and movement, in his laugh ... Given the evening's events, maybe she'd stumbled onto something, that first day with Cindy – maybe he _was_ a Cale, and maybe Bennett knew something about him.

Whatever it was ... it wasn't simple. And it wasn't merely some newly-found Cousin Cale, out with her young un'... _that_, they'd have mentioned by now. But neither of _these_ Cales had let out a peep about the child since she'd mentioned him...

Once Max started really watching the men, she saw several moments which fueled her suspicions: she caught the moment aside, when Logan got some information from Bennett, jotting some quick notes, spoken apart from the women and near the stereo as it played, so that even she couldn't catch anything; caught the apologetic looks from Bennett toward Logan, when Marianne announced that she had an early day and they'd be needing to leave; caught the self-conscious avoidance of Logan's eyes as they were suddenly alone, the penthouse now quiet and the atmosphere, decidedly awkward...

"Dinner was great," she started, noncommittal.

"Thanks," he nodded too quickly, not looking up. He seemed to hesitate a moment, but then moved on back to the kitchen, to begin loading the final dishes into the dishwasher...

"You could leave that, for later," she tried, seeing his attention, trying a smile. "Want some more coffee?"

"Sure." He agreed, still sounding distracted – and didn't move from the kitchen.

That was enough. "Logan, what's going on? What did Bennett say that has you so rattled?"

"What?" At times, Logan became so endearingly obvious – the man who could pull off a decent undercover in a wide range of circumstances found it nearly impossible to lie to her any more. And while usually it warmed her, reminding her of their growing relationship, right now it was just slowing things down.

She gave him a look. "This. Look at how you're acting. What's going on?" When he didn't respond immediately, she rolled her eyes and said, "Let me get you started. Something about that boy. I mentioned him, Bennett knew something and told you, and now you're freaked out..."

She knew she'd get through to him – she just hadn't expected the look she'd see. Logan was definitely worried, and it looked personal – the look he had when he finally admitted his feelings for her, fearful that he'd run her off, for good ... the look he held for the longest time, of refusal to trust that they could be a real, normal couple ... The look that could make _her_ worry, that caused her more than once to fear he was slipping away from her...

"What? Logan..." She urged, and began to suspect she knew what he feared – and why. "It... _is_...the boy..." She felt her mouth dry as she imagined his pending admission, about a family and past relationships and his hiding them from her and her finally learning to trust someone being thrown in her face, yet again... She stood abruptly, pacing, afraid to hear, afraid to be hurt again. She finally stopped and turned to him. "I knew it, Logan; I _saw_ it! There was too much about this kid that was _you_..."

"Max..." Logan watched as she pulled away from him, physically and emotionally, watched as she unconsciously backed herself up against the wall of the kitchen and her eyes filled with hurt. "I don't _know_ that... not yet..."

Her eyes closed; somehow it had been the wrong thing to say...

"I m..mean... there's a chance... I'd forgotten; but it could be..."

Her eyes flew open and tears stood there. "Oh, it's all 'love 'em and leave 'em Logan; don't know _how_ many babies there may be...'" She shook her head at the image, "God, Logan, we both have histories and it's not that; but you said so easily that you didn't have kids." One tear escaped, and Logan felt it as it burned her skin to let him see such emotion. _Green eyed-monster, indeed_, Max thought. Looking at the worried eyes and elegant face before her, she whispered, " I just can't stand it if you're lying to me about it all..."

"No, Max; I promise..." He gulped. With any other woman, the truth would likely be far easier to take. With Max, given her life... he wondered if she would _ever_ understand... "I'd forgotten, I promise ...but it wasn't a woman, or a relationship... it was... a favor. To Bennett..."

"Bennett?" Her eyes held her disbelief... her exasperation... and her aching, dwindling trust...

"Max..." He saw her retreat and knew that he'd have to tell her everything, no matter how she'd hear it. "Can we go in the other room and ... I'll tell you all I know..."

She stood unmoving, long moments; he knew she was fighting her emotions, doing all she could to hide them from him, something she hadn't done in many, many weeks now. When she finally turned, wordlessly, to go into the darkened living room, he followed, hating the fates that led Max to stumble onto an innocent little boy, who led to this moment, the consequences of events long forgotten.

Logan watched as Max stood, staring, unseeing, out the window. This wasn't like Max, he let himself consider... but then, so much of Max had been changing as they'd grown closer. As she'd opened up to him, _trusted_ him, he saw her softer side, her emotional side, her protective and possessive side even, just a shade of it, if any other female showed him any bit of attention... She still didn't always know what to do with her emotions and admitted as much to him, even, but had begun letting him in, trusting him as she trusted herself to _feel_. He would do anything if he could avoid hurting her newly-found heart...

"Do you want to sit?" He tried, awkwardly.

"I'm fine." She said stiffly, not turning. _Barriers up and ready_, he thought. Something he knew a little bit about, himself...

"Okay..." he took a breath, "Just a couple weeks before the Pulse... I'd finished college and come back to Seattle. Bennett was at Yale by then too, and was also back here for the summer. Jonas and Margo were half-way through some trip to Europe somewhere, so we had the place to ourselves." Logan sighed. "Bennett was finally coming into his own a bit; he had friends from school out visiting, and some he knew from prep school were around... and... he... threw a party. A big one. And he was showing off, and..."

Logan couldn't help himself. He knew this was serious, knew Max would wonder what the hell this had to do with the suspected paternity of the child in the park, still felt the nibbling fear that she wouldn't understand, but... at the memory... at having to voice it... his mouth still tugged into a small grin, no matter how hard he tried, at the thought... "he drove Jonas' precious Aston Martin DB5 into the swimming pool."

Max spun, her eyes flashing. "Is this in anyway related...?" She snapped, exasperated. The sight of his adolescent smirk helped not in the least.

"Max, please... hear me out; it _is_." He managed to stifle his grin, knowing that what came next might not be heard well by one with her own background. "It was... a ridiculously rare, expensive car to begin with, and by then antique and rarer... and more expensive... and waterlogged. And Bennett would never have survived, if Jonas were ever to find out. Several of the guys there actually stepped up to try and help pay for the restoration – the emergency, rushed, restoration, as Jonas was going to be home in about ten days – but it was running thousands of dollars and most of us, while we might have been good for it on paper, had parents wise enough to tie up most of that money in untouchable trusts. We weren't close to covering all the work – and, the shop owner, taking one look at us and the car and the circumstances – wanted a substantial down payment. "

Logan peered up at Max's back, turned to him again. This part might not be so easy for her to hear...

"One of the guys had previously been in need of some fast – serious – cash. And as none of us were particularly suited for bank heists – and our family would notice any art works we might try to fence..." Would the reminder of her own methods put him in better straits, or worse? He continued, "he suggested we do what he'd done. At the time, there were several fertility clinics across the country, assisting couples who were unable to have their own children without help... or for single parents, wanting a family..."

She turned again, abruptly. "I'm familiar with the program." She said, tentatively... her voice, chilled. She didn't turn away, this time; waiting ... her eyes locked into his...

So he nodded. "They needed... they _solicited_... donor sperm, for families who needed it. And they paid for it," he shrugged, "but the kicker was that they paid _really_ well for certain factors. It didn't hurt that we were young, healthy, all that ... but the fact we could bring them test results that demonstrated some ... desirable I.Q. points. And they could smack the 'Yale graduate' or 'Yale student' on our vials..." His eyes back looked up to Max's, guiltily. "So... in one or two easy stops, four of us were able to get quite a bank roll, to bail Bennett out of his jam." He sighed, admission all but over. "At the time, we figured it was a safe and legal way to get what we needed."

Max was silent for several moments, then murmured bitterly, "No wonder you caught on to Manticore so quickly ... in your own way, you participated in the same thing..."

It was what he feared, that she'd see the connection of what he'd done to what had happened to her... Softly, he tried, "They said it was all being done to help those who couldn't have their own kids..."

"The same science had been stretched a bit into broader application, down the road a bit..."

"How could we have known, Max?" He pressed, gently. "None of us knew anything about Manticore, or that anything remotely like that was possible. All the knowledge at the time, any reports, made it all just seem like benign miracles to help those who desperately wanted families of their own..."

"So that's why you were there. Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"No, I told you why..." He stood his ground patiently, willing to accept her difficulty with the idea, but not willing to let her twist his explanation. "We wanted to help Bennett. He was terrified of Jonas in general, but this had him tied up in knots. He was afraid not to go, scared of going alone... they made it easy to justify it, a _quid pro quo_: we help deserving families, they help us out with the cash."

She was still angry ... she thought. "It was all for the money..."

"It was to help out Bennett." His voice was soft... the voice she recognized as the voice of the city's savior, who repeatedly risked his own life and health and sanity to help those most in need... It was all so perfectly in character...

He saw her shoulders slump, almost as if defeated. "I don't know how to feel about this, Logan..."

He swallowed, the licked his lips to offer, "If I'd known then what I know now about programs like Manticore, I can't imagine it would sound like such a good idea." He watched her face carefully, hoping that she'd weather this...that _they_ would. "And I hope I wouldn't go through with it, no matter the reasons..."

She wanted to be mad, but couldn't be – not with Logan, not with his reasons and his insistent drive to help others who needed him. It wouldn't have been Logan, if he hadn't gone along...

She finally came around to sit in a chair, facing him; his eyes lightened a little but he didn't yet risk moving nearer to her. "So..." she sighed. "What are the odds? He's only five or so; and if this all happened more than ten years ago..."

He nodded, his hopes rising, but determined not to succumb and believe just yet it was that easy. "That's the problem – most of those places went out of business, what with the lack of facilities; the donated material has to be kept in special sub-zero containment – I can't imagine how any of it could be stored –and still viable – for the four or five years in between..." He looked back to her, and confessed, "I got the name of the place from Bennett; I thought I'd do a little research and see if I can track them down. It may yet just be a coincidence..."

She finally relaxed a bit more; a ghost of a smile traced her lips. "Logan, you haven't seen him. You may never be able to see it, the way I can, but..." She shrugged. "I'll bet you find they managed, somehow..."

His eyes searched her face for a hint of any forgiveness, of a clue to her thoughts. Afraid to believe just the smile, he wanted to reach out but didn't want to be rebuffed. Instead, he just asked, "Max? If I had remembered, I would have told you..."

"I know." Her words were immediate – as was his relief.

"I never dreamed, when I did this, that there would be anything but good results..."

She looked back into the worried eyes, and drew a long, slow breath. "I believe you..." She smiled the smile of the lost, unable to fix any blame on the soul whose main purpose was to do the right thing for everyone crossing his orbit. "It's whack, and it's pathetic... but I believe you." She shook her head and smiled even broader, as Logan's relieved grin split his face and he came closer to reach out for her hand. In full surrender now, she ignored his hand to get up and plant herself across his lap. As his arms went around her, she sighed out the last of her conflicting emotions, and settled back into her trust of him. "I knew it, all the time..." she whispered...

"Knew what?" He relaxed, finally, feeling her form in his, feeling the storm had been weathered.

"That the kid was _yours_, one way or the other." She was quiet a moment, and then he could have sworn he felt her mouth, against his shoulder, twist up in a wide grin. In another moment or two, he knew he'd been right when he heard the new, teasing note in her voice as she added, "and you'll explain the rest, I suppose?'

Did he dare ask? "What 'rest?'" he succumbed.

"Just how you go about making your deposit..."

And the sound of his self-conscious, grunted sigh was followed by her soft, relaxed chortle of delight...

**_...to be continued..._**


	3. Part 3

_**Disclaimer: please see Part One.**_

_**A/N: Continuing the response to Reilynn's Challenge. Please see Part One for details. And just to set the record straight: yes, I know this premise is improbable, even as the improbable DA universe goes, but it's AU, so what can I do? Thanks, as always, for your reviews. Good to know some of you like borderline-mooshy AU as much as I do!  
**_

_**The next day.**_

In the light of day, both Max and Logan were being very adult about it, doing all they could to appear fine with the idea, unruffled and open-minded at the thought, calm and collected as they spoke on the phone, each determined to show the other this was not a big deal. After all, even if Logan _were_ the biological father of this child Max had found, the boy had a family, a home, and a life. All aspects of paternity Logan might have ever had were waived in a solid legal document absolving the sperm donor of any rights or responsibilities involving the child. As enticement to donate, they promised the donor complete secrecy; though the pool of Yale graduates wasn't enormous in the Seattle area, they were assured that the parents wouldn't know the sperm was taken locally. They all but guaranteed there would be no search for them decades later; no suit for support payments, no contact at all. Logan had to assume that the recipient family received comparable promises.

They promised nothing like _this_ would happen. Of course, Logan mused... they hadn't counted on Max.

There's an irony, Logan snorted softly as he looked back again at the screenful of information he'd found. Here was a reproductive center engaging in a pale imitation of the sorts of things Manticore had done, brought up on his radar by the eagle eye of a woman herself a product of the most sophisticated genetic engineering science had yet seen. One thing led to another, and here he was, trolling through the files of a lab promising confidentiality that apparently hadn't bothered to get much of a security system for their files...

After hunting Manticore and other government ops, along with diverse corporate giants and their industrial spies, Logan found that hacking into the Life Center's files had been shamefully easy. Within thirty minutes he'd discovered how Max could be right, after all, about the boy's parentage: at the moment the Pulse hit, an enterprising young staff doctor convinced the Center to relocate immediately to countries less affected by the economic disaster spreading through the U.S. Taking the newest material collected, freshly frozen in hard storage, the Center arranged for half their inventory to go to Canada and half to Europe. At first hoping merely to remain afloat, the Center eventually became one of the few private reproductive clinics still in business, and one of only two or three that had managed to preserve sperm from American donors with high IQs and credentials from the best schools. With that precious inventory, they soon marketed discretely – but intensely – to those who could afford such rare goods.

And even now, Logan noted, only a handful of labs in the States could offer _in vitro_ services from start to completion, as they would have Pre-Pulse; fewer could maintain the sperm banks once so plentiful across the U.S. and elsewhere. The local lab still operating in Seattle by the Life Center served merely as the first stop, with interviews and initial physicals and travel plans, as the parents traveled to Vienna or Montreal for their IV treatment. Usually serving well-heeled clientele, apparently they found the clamor for their dwindling supply of ever aging "prime" sperm intense, and their rates reflected it. It wasn't quite so oppressive, five or six years ago, when this child would have been conceived, but it was grueling enough, to have to leave home and spend days, even weeks, at foreign clinics until a pregnancy was confirmed. If this boy was indeed his offspring ... Logan was amazed at the sacrifice in time and money this couple expended to bring him into the world. He must have been very, very much wanted, and probably cherished even more now. The thought touched and comforted Logan, leaving him mildly surprised that it had mattered so much...

He was roused from his musing by the sound of the door, followed closely by soft footsteps. He looked up to see the anticipation in the lovely face as Max first came around into the doorway. "Hi," she said, voice sounding breathless, no matter how casual she tried to appear. "Any luck?"

"Yeah, quite a lot..." He leaned back. "They didn't work too hard to keep their confidential files confidential." He knew what she'd want to hear and cut to the chase. "It's possible, Max... they were able to move the biomaterial overseas and into Canada, and stayed in business. This boy is five years old or so... yeah, it's possible." He shrugged.

"Well... did you look through the records, to be sure?"

He looked away, shaking his head as he looked back to the screen. "No..."

"Were those records kept separately, or secured somehow? Maybe I could get in to find..."

"No. I can access them. And... from the information I saw in other files... I suspect I could get all the information on him, if he was conceived through their IV program."

Max frowned. "But... you haven't." She looked at him and realized, "and... you don't plan to..."

He was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. "No."

"Why?' She didn't get it. "If you can know for sure..."

"Max..." He didn't know if he himself understood enough of his reaction to explain it all to her. "They promised the families – they promised _us_ – that the information was inviolate. If the child _is_ a product of IV fertilization at that place... the family has a right to their privacy..."

"Don't you have a right to know if he's your son?"

"But he's not, Max, that's just it." Logan looked back to her, hoping she could understand. "Even if it's my DNA in him ... he was carried and nurtured and raised by parents who went to incredible expense in time and distance ... and cost ... to have him. I did nothing..."

She wavered, seeing how this had affected him, the respect he had for the sacrifices borne by the mother she'd seen playing with the child in the park. At the time, Max hadn't noticed anything special about her – in fact, she was so taken with the boy she'd barely noticed the mother. But the child was a reflection not only of Logan's DNA that she thought she saw, but the happiness, the joy and the fearlessness in him – that would have been largely his parents' doing. And even without seeing them, Logan understood that, honored it. Reaching out to trace his shoulder tenderly, she smiled softly and urged, "you gave them their child ... no strings, all theirs. That's a miracle, Logan."

He looked long into her eyes, and let his arm snake softly around her waist. "I'm glad you understand."

"I do..." She paused, then shrugged, "I couldn't do it," she laughed softly, her affection apparent, "I'd have to look, to see if he were mine--but I'm not surprised you've got more will power than I do." At his silent smile in response, she offered, "what about going to see him? Just one day when he's at the park..."

"Max... I don't know..."

"I still might be wrong, Logan, and it's not invading their lives to go to a public park..." She watched his reaction. "You're not just a bit curious?"

"Sure, but..." he dropped his eyes again, torn. "Maybe it's better not to see him."

"Because... you'd want to go back, as I have?"

He sighed. "Probably."

"You have to at least see him, Logan, to know what a good thing you did for those people."

He looked back up to her deep brown eyes, and saw how much it mattered to her that he understood the result of his donation. He reminded her softly, "It may not be what we think..."

"Then it won't hurt to go see him..." She brightened.

At that, Logan knew he'd been beaten, and that he'd be seeing the child. "It might hurt _me_ if I don't" his mouth curved up, wryly, at her.

Her smile broadened in satisfaction. "My thoughts exactly" she nudged him with her hip. "Need some help whipping up dinner?"

"It would be ready faster."

"Then let's get on it," she leaned around behind him playfully, to kiss his cheek on the far side of where she stood. "Girl's gotta eat..."

**_Two days later._**

Logan pulled up along the park's entrance and saw Max standing by her bike not far from some playground equipment. The day before had been rainy but even so, Max had gone by the park – no one at all outside in the drizzle. But this day had dawned dry and clear, and in hopeful anticipation, Max rode by the park at 11:45 – she'd noted, after the first couple times, that this was their lunch time, and it appeared to her that this was a working mom, whose appointment calendar included a daily lunch date with her son. And today was no exception: she saw the pair walking into the play area, chatting happily. A perfect day for Logan to see the boy for himself...

She'd found the nearest phone and urged Logan to come; he expected her call and stalled only a few short moments, despite his newly added misgivings, his fears of violating their privacy. He firmly believed they didn't deserve his interference, and brooded that somehow even his appearing in the park could risk intrusion. But the intrigue of seeing a child who might actually be his own, biological child weakened his resolve – with help from Max – and it was only thirty minutes after Max's arrival at the playground that the familiar, dirty Aztek pulled in, heading toward her. As he pulled up to park, Max approached his window. "Hey" she grinned in anticipation. "They're right over there – can you see him from here?"

"Yeah; some," he looked over, suddenly feeling a mix of emotions that felt for all the world like hope and dread. Could he tell, just looking at the boy? Would he somehow feel some connection, if this child was ... his? He suddenly realized he wasn't sure if he hoped the child was his or not...

...and then the sturdy, small form turned and appeared to look over their way. And Logan saw the smiling, sunny demeanor of this child as he called to his mother...

Logan was intrigued. There was no way he could tell if the child looked like him, not really – no one could recognize their own appearance the way another person could. But the coloring and build was right, and it was possible ... The boy seemed so confident and happy, even playing alone. Logan suddenly wondered if they were new to the area, if it was why he had no playmates his age, and found himself hoping another child or two would appear, to keep the boy company...

"Does he always come alone, with his mother?" Logan finally asked Max.

Max looked to see that Logan, too, had been reeled in by the child. "Yeah, but I think this is their lunch time, maybe some private time between them. And there was a time when another little boy happened to show up with his mom, and the two seemed to hit it off, " she encouraged. "He's cute, isn't he?"

Logan seemed to come back to earth and colored, slightly. "Yeah," he admitted. "You really think he looks ... like we might be related?"

"Yeah, I do." She tipped her head to ask, "you don't see it?"

"I can't really tell." His eyes moved back to watch the child play, and after several moments, said "He's... so full of life..."

Max looked at Logan, and suggested, "C'mon – why don't we take a walk, along the path there ... see how it goes along the fence, right up by the playground? A lot better view, that way..."

"Max, they deserve an uninterrupted life..." he balked. "If the mother even suspected..."

"Why would she? Just a walk..." Max lured...

He wavered only a moment, but then opened his door, unable to deny Max anything and feeling his own urge to get in for a closer look. He reached for his chair, and at Max's grin of victory, he shook his head. "Not a bad day for a walk..." he relented.

_**A few minutes later.**_

Max and Logan strolled along the path that followed the fence surrounding the play area, appearing to chat casually. There were some others in the area, both children with parents and adults on the footpaths, but as they neared the play area, Max realized with some concern that the mother noted their approach and seemed fixed on Max. _Was I so careless as to be obvious each time I came through? Was it the repetitive scene?_ she wondered about her walking through each time, bicycle pushed alongside. Unlike her to be so obvious, even if it was just a mother and child. She frowned a bit to herself, worried that Logan's concerns might come to pass, after all... especially now that the woman was rising to start walking toward them, so they'd meet along the path...

"Max..." Logan murmured, clearly uncomfortable now. "Have you approached her?"

"No!" Max said, low, "but ... I wasn't exactly in hiding when I came before, Logan; I'm sorry..."

"Let's just go." He stopped, looking at her and making to turn around and retreat. "Before she thinks we're watching..."

"Excuse me..." The woman's voice called.

_Too late_, Max grimaced, throwing Logan an apologetic look before turning back toward the woman. Best to meet the challenge head on... She smiled innocently at the woman. "Hey..."

"Hi." The woman had neared the fence, stopping a few feet away, and tried to smile, but her manner was tense, and despite her efforts at looking casual, each could see she was nervous. _Just what he'd hoped to avoid_, each thought... "Forgive me for asking, but I couldn't help notice your watching us and I wondered if I should know you..."

_Brave woman_, each thought, as the mother rose to the test the threat to her son. Max managed to smile, "Oh – no, sorry; I noticed you a few days ago, and your boy is just so cute ... I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

The woman smiled, but couldn't hide the nervousness she felt, as her eyes shifted from Max to Logan, an expression of uncertain recognition there as she looked more closely at him. "It's just that you've been here, almost every day, when we've been around." So she'd _not_ been as cautious as she ought to have been, Max realized – the woman must have seen her from the first day. "And these days, you can't be too careful. Do you live around here?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from Logan to glance back to Max, before again turning back nervously to Logan.

"No, but I work close and it's nice to come out here over lunch hour, just to get some air." she smiled, surreptitiously slipping her badge into a pocket, in case the woman knew what sort of work the badge implied. "I see you two have the same idea."

The woman nodded, appearing to relax a little, but still on guard. Emboldened by her successful challenge of Max, the mother drew a breath to address Logan. "Have _we_ met? You look so familiar..."

"Me? No..." Logan glanced away, awkwardly. "I don't think so," he qualified. He was intensely regretting his decision to take a closer look, and just wanted to leave them alone...

"But I could swear..." She began, when suddenly her eyes went wide in fear. "I know you," she trembled, "they had a picture of you, in your file..." The pretty face paled as Logan knew his concern had been justified. "They had photos, originally, so that if the parents wanted to... to choose features to look like them, in addition to the other things..." Eyes filling with tears, the woman begged, "they promised us you wouldn't try to take him, or even tell you where he was... Please, you can't do this..."

"No, wait, that's not why I'm here; I just wanted..." Logan insisted, admitting awkwardly, "I just wanted to see for myself ... Max, here, saw him a couple times, saw a resemblance ... and I thought if maybe he _was_..." Logan stumbled, with both the regret for having caused the woman such grief, even if momentary ... and the realization that the child romping in the grass, sturdy and strong and full of such cheerful energy, was his own flesh and blood... With another long look to the boy, then to his mother, Logan pulled himself together to drop his hands to his wheels and back up a bit, eyes dropping too, unable to make eye contact after having done the damage. "I'm sorry" he said softly. "We won't bother you again..."

He'd turned to go, but as Max still watched, the child's mother, apparently growing less fearful that Logan was there to take her child, hesitated only a moment before glancing briefly to Max, then called toward him, "...wait ... please?"

Logan stopped. After a moment, he turned back around, in place, and looked back up.

"I ... it's okay; I guess I'd be curious, too." She wavered, unable to keep her eyes from darting down to the chair, to his body, to what it might mean for her son. "Look, I..." She stopped, then smiled, tentatively, "he's such a fantastic kid..." Her voice broke, and she laughed, a lingering nervousness still audible when she did, "we always said we wished there was some way to thank the donor..." Her eyes met his again. "I don't know what made you decide to do it ... but ... thank you. He's such a great kid; we never could have had our own, and he's..." She trailed, then shrugged, words inadequate. "He's our life...my life."

Logan smiled, hesitant himself, and offered, "I'm glad things ... worked out."

"After the Pulse, it was rare that such procedures worked, with all that happened – power gone, all the destruction of offices and equipment, all that. They didn't even hold much hope that _in vitro_ would work, using less... sophisticated... methods. And they lost so much of the donor material..." She smiled, remembering how lucky they'd been. "He's our miracle child in so many ways." She glanced up to the green eyes so like her son's, and knew she had to ask, the sickening fear that even more of him was in her son's future. "I'm sorry to be so rude as to ask, but ... they never told us that ... that you used a wheelchair. Is it ... something that maybe Austin will face, too?"

Logan didn't get it in that first moment, what she could mean ... then in a rush, understood – and hurried to assure her, "No, no..." He spoke quickly, seeing the mother's worry in her eyes. "No, it was an injury, nothing genetic, nothing like that." He saw her relax, and understood the fear she must have held at his appearance. He went on to reassure her, "I've always been very healthy; no problems at all." With a self-deprecating laugh, he added, "My doctor even says that I'm handing the injury physically much better than most, that I haven't had a lot of the secondary problems or infections or such at the expected rate ... for what it's worth..." he trailed, again awkward at causing the woman worry for her son. _Her_ son, he repeated, reminding himself... "Look, I ... was just curious, when Max saw him and saw the resemblance. I shouldn't have come by. I never thought that you'd ... be concerned about seeing us, or that you'd recognize who I was. I never would have come if I'd realized..." He wavered again, then began to pivot again, making ready to go.

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hearing it in his voice, the woman took a couple steps closer, near the fence separating them. "Mister...?"

He stopped, in silhouette to her. "Cale." He looked back up to her. "My name's Logan Cale."

She nodded. After a moment, not speaking, she finally lifted her head to face him. "Mr. Cale, thank you ... for our son." She paused, bit her lip, and continued, moisture sparkling suddenly in her eyes. "He makes us laugh, every day; he amazes us even more often." She offered a growing smile, and dared, "You must have given your own parents so much happiness..."

In the awkward silence following, Max spoke up for the first time, sensing Logan's self-consciousness and misgivings for his intrusion, as well as the woman's growing need to thank him and to know the man who'd given her their child. "What does he like to do?"

"Sports, especially soccer, these days. Drawing,... oh, and acting; he's such a little ham." She smiled, speaking in some relief to Max, as she served as a bridge between herself and Logan. "He loves inventing his own stories and skits; back in the old neighborhood, where there were more kids his age, he'd even enlist them to play roles in his little shows and he'd direct them, star in them..." She laughed softly, "He doesn't really get that from either of us..." She glanced back over to Logan, with a timid smile. "Could it be we've found where it came from?"

Logan just smiled self-consciously. At that, Max subtlety moved a caressing hand across Logan's shoulder to nod, "I think you have."

The woman's smile settled. "Good." She nodded.

The boy suddenly piped up, calling across the several yards between them. "Can I get lunch out now, Mama?"

She turned to smile. "Sure. Save the cookies for last, though..."

"We'd better let you go..." Logan smiled again, his attempted retreat easier this time.

The woman nodded and wavered a moment, uncertain, but then seemed to make up her mind. "Mr. Cale... my office isn't far, and... we come out here most days, so I can see Austin for a little while, over lunch. Any time... if you just wanted to see how he was doing... It wouldn't bother me at all."

The expression Logan wore probably looked to the woman to be calm, appreciative... but Max could also see the slight misting of his eyes, his quick swallow – Logan was moved by the child and touched by the woman's offer. He was a stranger, after all, one who might have an interest in horning in on her son. Logan clearly was affected by her willingness to trust him, and to show her thanks by welcoming him near to observe... "Thank you," he'd begun. "I would never want to cause any problem for you – or confusion for him..."

"I appreciate that." She smiled again. "I think it's okay. And maybe, when he's a bit older ... you two might want to talk."

Logan paused, smiled slowly ... and admitted, "If he were interested ... I'd like that." He drew a deep breath to smile a little wider and offered, "You'd better not leave your lunch date waiting."

She nodded, and, just before turning, offered, "I've never owed anyone more thanks than I do you, Mr. Cale. I wish I had better words, but ... thank you."

"Those words sound fine..." He smiled as the woman walked back to join her son on a sunny bench, helping him sort through the lunch carrier they'd brought. Logan lingered, watching another few minutes, as Max watched him.

What thoughts must be circling in his head, she wondered ... clearly he was moved; maybe he'd found more here than he'd expected – both in the family he'd helped, and inside himself. He was unmoving as he watched the child settle into his lunch, and looked suddenly alone, wistful. With mixed feelings of success for showing Logan more of his good works, and guilt for causing this sadness, Max let her arms circle his shoulders, coming up close behind him. "You gave them a miracle, Logan. Look at him..." Logan smiled and leaned back into her arms a little, but said nothing. Max urged his humor, "and I thought Manticore had game."

Logan's gaze at the child broke with his soft chuckle, and he relaxed back into Max's arms, raising his hands to cover hers and tip his face up toward hers. "_They_ gave _me_ a miracle, didn't they?" He met her lips as she came close, and they lingered a moment, in the sunshine, yards away from Logan Cale's only – _known --_ offspring. Breaking the kiss, they both took a final look at the mother and child, the mother unabashedly watching the couple and smiling for them as the kiss fell away. "What d'you say I give you a ride back to work?'

"I can get there faster on my bike..." she shrugged.

"I know." His sparkling green eyes didn't look so alone anymore. "But in my car... we have a few more minutes together."

Max's smile broadened, sunnier than the day around them. "You have a point." She turned with Logan and they made their way back toward his car. "And this way you'll have time to tell me what you'll be feeding me this evening..."

_**...to be continued...**_


	4. Part 4

_**Disclaimer: please see Part One.**_

_**A/N: Continuing the response to Reilynn's Challenge. Please see Part One for details. **_

_**THANKS, as always, for your reviews, and the several questions and suggestions offered for where this might go. Unlike my usual fic, this one was largely done before even the first chapter was posted, and the aim was to make it not too long. So while I always love the comments and ideas, this time I didn't leave the room I'd need in the story to let them spur additional ideas to embellishing the story. Maybe next time...? **_

_**That evening.**_

Dinner had been delayed...

When she'd returned to work, Max found Normal two employees short and a special, multi-run job that had him barking demands and even offering overtime to meet the day's promised delivery schedule. Max had called Logan to let him know it would be closer to nine than to six before she could be there, but he assured her the meal would wait, as he could. He'd sounded alright and insisted that he was, but concern nibbled at Max as she hurried to Sector 9 after her deliveries were completed.

He'd been quiet in the car on the way back to Jam Pony, even though he'd suggested he give her a lift so they could have a few extra minutes together. The knowledge opened to Logan that afternoon, no matter his efforts to keep everyone's privacy intact, coupled with the realities of his injury, could overwhelm anyone, and clearly Logan was struggling to process it all. Max wanted to be with him that evening, to be there for him if she could, maybe just to be a sounding board or warm shoulder ... or soft, willing lips...

The evening was dark and calm when Max arrived at Logan's; the penthouse hushed. She let herself in and was met with the rich aroma of the night's dinner, but found the kitchen cleaned and the chef absent. The computer room was empty as well as Max came through the large place to the windowed front room and its owner sitting in the dark, gazing out at the twinkling night skyline. Logan was quiet, unmoving at first ... but with a gentle sigh, not turning around, he opened his hand toward her and spoke in his velvet, soothing voice. "Hey, Max..."

"Hey..." She came around to sit near him, slipping onto the corner of a chair at his side as she slipped her hand in his. "Pretty night." At his soft smile and nod, she added, "I'm sorry that it got so late – Normal was going to implode if we didn't help him out..."

He tried to smile again, but the day's revelations had settled on him with the settling evening, leaving him quiet, even dispirited, as she'd feared. But he answered, reacting to her warmth, shifting his hand around hers to let his thumb trace her knuckles. "No problem. Dinner kept just fine."

_It wasn't fair_, she thought fleetingly. The man gave so much, yet lost so much more. Screw the fact that he had advantages and money and _things_ others didn't; he gave of _himself _with such a selfless passion ... one of these days he ought to get something in return.

... _but maybe he had_, she heard herself consider, _and that's what he's working on now._ He had a hand in bringing the world a beautiful, happy, healthy boy...

"What'cha thinking?" she asked him, softly.

He was quiet for several moments. Finally, his expression melancholy, Logan admitted, "About Austin." He fell silent again for another moment, then drew a breath. "Did you ever think about having kids, Max?"

She considered several possible responses, all glib, all biting one-liners – but decided that, at this moment, it wasn't fair to him to show her usual cynicism – she'd seen behind his walls today and, in fairness – maybe he should see a little past hers, too. "Sure, I guess... but not too seriously. I sort of planned my life around being packed and ready to run, whenever I needed to go, you know? Not only would that be next to impossible, to move fast like that, with a kid... but it wouldn't be fair to him – or her. So..." She shrugged, "I never gave much thought to being settled down with two-point-three kids and a white picket fence before." She smiled, hoping to nudge him into feeling better. When he remained quiet, she prodded, "Have you?" As his eyes lifted to her, she challenged, "You never really struck me as the settled-down-to-be-a-father sort, what with fighting the power and all..."

He snorted a soft laugh, but remained silent, eyes lifting from hers to look back out at the night.

..and Max saw there was more... She waited another moment, then asked, "I guess seeing Austin makes it real, huh?"

He sighed... then finally spoke. "I never really saw myself as the father sort, either... I guess losing my parents, coupled with _gaining_ Uncle Jonas and Aunt Margo in their place, pretty well convinced me that 'family' isn't all that it's cracked up to be." He was quiet again, musing, but then added, "But I always had the choice, before. Now ... I'm not so sure."

Max frowned – she'd done the research and knew immediately what he meant. But he'd never said whether or not his injury would affect _him_ that way... "Did... Sam ever say... that you can't...?"

He sighed... and focused, a deep breath centering him. "No... but he said it was likely to be difficult, at best; it is for just about anyone with an injury like this. For me, uncertain, maybe impossible..." He spoke softly, his eyes not focused on the scene outside his window now, but on the conversation with Sam... and the roads not taken... With another deep breath, his voice became a bit stronger as his memories moved from the previous year to the previous hours. "And I hadn't really thought about it, not really ... until I saw Austin..." He finally looked to her in the dim light, and confessed, "Until I believed ... there might be an 'us.'" The bitter irony suddenly dawning on him, he looked away again. "Funny, isn't it? Austin was conceived because his father couldn't have children, conceived with _my_ help. Funny if I'm now in the same boat..."His brow clouded as he admitted, "and all this time, even if I ... if my injury ended my ability to have kids ... the Center already _had_ my sperm, and I could just have ... phoned in an order." He tried to keep his words light, to diffuse the difficulty of the thoughts behind them. "Now... it may be too late, even for that."

Max saw the hurt in his expression and leaned closer, her knees touching his. "You don't know, though ... don't write anything off before you try, if that's what you want."

His sad green eyes swung back, slowly, to look into hers, and the ghost of a smile actually began, working to erase some of the hurt. "'course not." He took a breath, and looked at her with his nascent trust that if ever _she_ wanted to 'try,' it might be with him. "What about you, Max?" he risked asking her, raising his long-standing fear that even if she cared for him she could bolt, leaving him behind as she ran – and what possible topic could make her feel more trapped than asking about children? "Would that be a deal breaker for you, kids versus ... none?"

_If only he could know how I feel_, Max thought when she looked into those amazing eyes, _he'd never even think to ask_... "Not for me," she smiled, happily grounded, not the least sign of flight in her eyes. "Only one part of the deal that concerns me ... that you're part of the package."

The smile she saw in response touched her, as he seemed to come back to earth, finally -- and as he did, much of the melancholy and fear and regret had been left behind. "Just try to get rid of me." His smile continued to grow gently, until he even added, a wry twist now to his lips, "Of course... _your_ kids..." his green eyes actually took on a small twinkle as he spoke. "They inherit the right genetic material from you, they'd be hell during the 'terrible twos,' wouldn't they?"

Max grinned, relaxing as he did. "If you only knew..."

He chuckled. "Who would we ever find willing to babysit?'

She couldn't help the smile that grew wide, hearing his choice of pronoun. "We'll just have to find Zack or some of the other kids, work out a system."

"A whole day care full of your offspring, yours and the others'? With your siblings in charge? What kind of insurance would _that_ place need?" Logan's smile grew more centered as he let go of his wistful speculation to focus more on the present – and as he acknowledged the fact that Max was there, with him, buoying him up, showing she cared. "Something to plan, maybe?"

"Maybe." Max's smile in return lit up his soul. "Especially if we have to worry about a revved-up toddler with a predisposition toward play-acting and a stubborn streak as wide as Seattle..."

"And just who do you think he'd get _that_ from?" Logan's challenge was full-grin mode, now.

"As if you'd have to ask..." She laughed. "Blah blah, woof woof..."

_**finis**_


End file.
